


Why are we getting married, Kurt?

by dark_side_of_the_moon



Category: The Good Fight (TV), The Good Wife (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_side_of_the_moon/pseuds/dark_side_of_the_moon
Summary: Takes place in Season 5 of the Good Wife, episode 'Outside the Bubble' just after Diane meets Kurt's friends in a bar and she's questioning if they are really suited.





	Why are we getting married, Kurt?

“Why are we getting married, Kurt?”  
“You don’t want to?”  
“I don’t know.”

**

The truck pulled up outside his house and they walked silently to the front door.  
“You’re still……upset?” He asked as he opened it.  
"I don’t know what I am.” She answered honestly, the mixed feelings still swirling inside her. She took off her coat and hung it up as he closed the door. “Do you want a drink?” She asked, walking through to the kitchen.  
“Sure.” He said hesitantly, suspecting it was going to be a long evening. He followed her through into the kitchen and took out two glasses as she took the bottle of scotch from the cupboard. “Do you….want to talk about it?” He knew the answer would be yes, even though he couldn’t possibly think of what else there was to say. He could see the badly concealed, what was it? Jealousy? No. Insecurity? Maybe. Not something he normally associated with her.  
“Not really.” She answered, handing him a glass of scotch and turning to rest back against the counter. He raised an eyebrow as she looked at him over the rim of her glass.  
“Sure?” He waited, as she weighed up her words.  
“It’s just….I think it’s weird. You’re a sixty year old man and your best friends are three 20 something women? And you claim you haven’t slept with any of them?” She laughed and shook her head.  
“Wait, so you’re mad I haven’t slept with them? Or you don’t believe me? Would it make any difference if they were 20 something year old guys?” She thought about this for a second and shrugged. It shouldn’t, but it would have. “You hang out with Will all the time. You’ve gone out for drinks with Cary and God knows who.”  
“That’s different.” She insisted. He raised an eye brow. “We work together.”  
“I run my own business, Diane. I can’t socialise with co-workers I don’t have. They are self-employed too. It’s the nature of the business. I don’t see what the problem is or what you want me to say.” Frustrated, he set down his glass and ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to bed.” He decided, walking towards the stairs. She watched him go and opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. She wasn’t sure what to say – that she’d just been expecting some men of a similar age and style to himself? Maybe smoking? Maybe armed? Definitely going on about their second amendment rights. In truth she’d liked his friends – all professional, independent women like herself and they’d welcomed her warmly to the bar. She sighed and drained her glass. She was being a bitch, she told herself. Weirdly, she found she believed him, when he said he hadn’t slept with any of them, so it wasn’t like there was anything to be jealous of there. Stop being a bitch, she told herself. She set her glass on the counter next to his and took a deep breath. 

He’d left the lamp on her side of the bed on, but otherwise the room was in darkness. He lay on his side facing the window. She took her time in the bathroom, giving them both some space. She slipped into bed quietly behind him and gently slipped her arm around his waist, kissing his shoulder.  
“I’m sorry. They just weren’t what I….expected. That’s all.”  
“You mean they weren’t angry, old gun-nuts?” He said, without looking at her. She hesitated.  
“Yes, if I’m honest.” She kissed his shoulder again and snuggled against him. “It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. And I’m sorry.” He sighed and rolled over, slipping an arm around her and pulling her closer.  
“The great Diane Lockhart, admitting she was wrong. And judgemental.” He smiled.  
“It’s rare, so enjoy the moral high ground while you can, Mr McVeigh.” She smiled back.  
“Well…” he rolled on top of her “I’ll be enjoying more than that, Ms Lockhart. Or will it be Mrs McVeigh?” Before she could answer, he pressed his mouth to hers. She responded, wrapping her arms around him as he moved his lips against hers, his tongue gently pushing between her lips. They took their time, savouring each other. She slid one hand down his back to gently cup his ass, the other into his hair, holding him to her. She sighed gently and felt him smile against her neck as he kissed his way down to her collar bone, the warmth of his breath, the soft bristles of his beard grazing her skin. His lips found hers again and he settled his weight on top of her, his erection pressing against her abdomen. She wrapped her arms around him and gently stroked his back, tracing her fingers lightly down his spine, making him shiver. He gently slid the straps of her nightdress away, exposing the tops of her breasts, his fingers lightly tracing down the side of her body until they reached her thighs and he pulled her legs up either side of him. God, she felt good – so soft and warm and relaxed. His hand gently stroked its way up her inner thigh and he shifted slightly, allowing more room to gently stroke her with the back of his fingers. She smiled and ran her tongue seductively along his lower lip before pulling him in closer. He turned his hand and began to stroke her. She tilted her pelvis upwards and moaned softly as he massaged her gently, small circular movements, with the tips of his fingers. She was more than ready, he knew, and slipped two fingers gently inside her as he flicked his tongue into her mouth with the same motion. His thumb found her clitoris and circled it gently, his fingers sliding in and out of her. She gasped, tilting her head back and she continued to move against his hand. He buried his face in her neck, enjoying the scent of her, her warmth, the familiar movements of her body against his, knowing she close.  
“Kurt!” She cried out as her body shivered and contracted before riding out the final waves of pleasure. He gently eased his fingers away. He looked into her dreamy, half-closed eyes, what he thought of as her post-orgasmic look. She smiled up at him. “Wow!” she breathed, “I’m really looking forward to being Mrs McVeigh.”   
“And I’m not even half done with you yet.” He smiled down at her and shifted his weight, making sure she could feel his erection pressing against her, knowing what was still to come.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to write the second part tomorrow.


End file.
